Loyalty Rises
by The Fedora Kid
Summary: "They hate me there, and i know i should hate them back, but i don't. i used to think it was good to be loyal, but now i see it's a curse. The worst part about all of it though, is that i hate myself because of it all," she cried. "There may be pain now, and you may think it's a curse, but it's a test of courage against you and him, and you always finish first," please review!


The sun, high as if hanging from the sky, beamed rays of light into every window of every home facing east. Every beam, every window, a new story. Some of those stories are better than others. Full of success, money, and hope.

Some ponies like to hear stories like that, but in my eyes, all that says is that they have boring stories. Stories without problems are boring, because I know what everyone wants to hear, read, and sometimes see. Problems.

Stories are sick and twisted, as are those who read it. Stories catch ones attention on the level of a few things. One, is it written well? Is there enough of anything to catch the attention of someone? Is it grammatically correct? How many spelling errors are there? How often does the author update?

After these sets of thoughts are answered, merely seconds later, the interest level kicks in. What problems appear? How should this character that has been developed overcome these problems, if he or she even does?

Many things create good stories. Only a few things create great stories. And, pray tell, what does and author have to do to make a good story?

make a character.

Create a setting.

Think of everything bad that can happen in a series of events.

If readers are sick, Authors are plagued beyond belief. What most ponies in real life don't realize is that if an author can think of something, he can do that something. It just takes a certain course of events, and the courage to take on what is known to have to be done for the better of your cause.

Some people don't have the same set of courage and bravery as they think, as others think. Loyalty is not the courage to do what needs to be done, but the ignorance to consequence.

Our story is full of pain, courage, endurance, and Loyalty. Loneliness and woe, sorrow, symbolic. Our story is based on what loyalty means, how to dodge death at the last second possible, and where kindness is rejection, honesty lies, magic is trickery, laughter is painful, generosity is greedy, and loyalty. . . loyalty is ignorant and weak.

Loyalties ignorance will be it's end, but not today. Today, Loyalty shall rise above all else, and will not back down, no matter how many broken bones it gains, no matter how much blood loss, loyalty is one more thing that can only be described in three words, stronger than any other words.

Never.

Back.

Down.

Our story begins as one particular ray of light that, if not there at that time, this story would not exist, took upon itself to leap into one particular window, onto one particular set of closed eyes. The window was fluffy, not like other windows in ponyville.

This day begins the marking of history.

A pair of eyes fluttered open, a moan, scratchy, was released from the creature awaking from it's blissful slumber. Disheveled mane and tale from sleep, it was a pony. A Pony that lived in a cloud, where rainbow waterfalls spilled into a pool, somehow never ending. It was dawn, and to this pony, rainbow maned and tailed, cyan fur, strong cerise and Brilliant Vermillion colored eyes, dawn meant that what she had been enjoying for the past couple of hours had to end. Rarity always told her that her mane and tail matched with her coat was a gift, and that she hated seeing rainbow wast it as if any other color, but when the right rays of light catch on the spectrum, you could say that every stallion tears themselves from their conversation just for a glimpse, pained that they had no chance.

On the flank of this pony, both sides, a multi-colored lightning bolt, blue, yellow, and red, appearing from a pop-corn styled cloud.

The pony pulled her cloud covers back over her head, but the light forced itself through. Frankly, this pony was thankful, and angry and the same time that this light would not let up. She knew work called, but the lazier side of her scolded her for getting a job in the first place. Of course, as much as the cyan pony loved her sleep time, it would return soon, as she realized that she only needed to do a little amount of work as quick and as best as possible. No problem for the pony, weather duty being part of the normal schedule, and doing this faster and better than anypony else? No sweat. There was one challenge, though. This, probably one of the biggest problems, ranking close to the evil of discord and nightmare moon, is getting up. In a futile attempt at more sleep, obviously not thinking, she waved her hoof, shooing away the light, but the light would not go away.

As if sent from the gods themselves, this light was meant to awaken the pony at that moment, and fate added a comedic twist as the pony jumped from her cloud bed and screamed an obscenity at the light, now a cloud covering it from higher above than her house, floating in the sky. After cursing under her breath, the pony, now revealing a pair of feathered wings, trotted into her bathroom to clean up for the day. If any other pony had seen the way this ponies mane looked, they would faint on the spot, not to mention what sort of overload rarity might have.

The pony laughed at the thought of rarity being held back by her other friends while she raged in a fit trying to fix the rainbow mane. The cyan pony sometimes thought up odd scenarios, never ever expecting anything like it to actually happen.

"Rarity sure can be a laugh sometimes," the pony spoke, no one specifically around to hear her. She wrapped her hoof around a brush, and with swift motions, put her mane into the signature design that it is every day. After yawning, a whiff of her breath found it's way into her nose, making her gag, and immediately reached for her tooth brush, given as a personal design from Colgate herself. After thoroughly washing and straitening herself out, the rainbow maned pegasus ate a quick breakfast, leftover hash browns from the other day.

As the pegasus pushed herself out the door, she turned and watched as her home sat, as if a living, yet lazy, cloud, the spectrum of pure rainbow splashed from her house. As every time she looks at the masterpiece, she thanks Celestia that it is hers, and her life is so wonderful. Although there are many hardships, her life was pretty good. Good friends, a good job, and a nice house. Something though. . . something seemed to be missing. The house was large.

"A large house usually occupies more than one pony," The pony muttered to herself, she shook her head. "No! I can't let some fantasy get in the way of what I have! The Wonderbolts don't allow ponies with relationships in anyway," The rainbow maned pegasus told herself.

"Although. . . it would be kind of nice to have somepony to call my own. . . but that can wait until i'm done with the Wonderbolts! I guess I do need some awesome kids to carry on my legacy," These were the kinds of conversations the pony didn't want to have with anyone but herself. She had good friends, but not even them knew that the pegasus dreamed of having foal, or even settling down for that matter. The cyan pony was never one for slowing down, better yet basically stopping all together. The pegasus sighed.

"I need to stop with these thoughts. Maybe work will cut me out of this," she said. She zoomed off with a smirk.

"Alright, I guess I better plan out my day. . . first there's work," the pony thought to herself. "Then I can either nap or practice for the Wonderbolts. . . better practice, that way I don't fall asleep when I'm supposed to meet up with the others," she said. The pegasus bolted into Cloudsdale.


End file.
